


Tik Tok

by Wakor



Category: Don't hug me I'm scared - Fandom
Genre: First Meeting, Gen, Padclock, Padlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-26
Updated: 2014-01-26
Packaged: 2018-01-10 04:27:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1155073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wakor/pseuds/Wakor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony's roamed the universe for years thinking he was alone, but then a pesky notepad shows up and ruffles his feathers. And also stabs him through the chest a few times.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tik Tok

**Author's Note:**

> I always liked the political meanings behind the DHMIS videos, so I decided to try and integrate them a bit into the Notepad and Clock's fanon characters. Notepad, of course, represents how parents, teachers, and the media promote false creativity by indoctrinating the same ideas over and over and over again. Tony the Clock represents how parents and teachers trap children in mindless routines and also criticizes how media uses our sensitivity of time to sell us merchandise.  
> But they're also ridiculous, creepy puppets, so it's best not to take them too seriously.

    She was an entity like himself, a creature who bid the universe to morph around her in the name of _creativity_. Before her, Tony had always thought he was alone. He’d never mourned it, of course -- why should he? His purpose in life was to sap power from time and force his little puppets to run faster in their little hamster wheels -- figuratively, of course. After all, the more importance humanity placed on time, the more power time had over them. And Tony, of course, was time personified.

    But this other creature, this light-footed girl in a doodly white dress had moved in on his turf. No… in fact, she’d completely shucked his influence aside. The wretched little notepad was able to stop time and convince three of his puppets to waste precious seconds looking at fruit and commenting on her hair. Granted, at least they were DOING something -- Tony had intended to trip them up and get them worried about wasting _time_ instead of mucking around all day. But the notepad’s blatant disregard for chronology was highly offensive and he was not going to stand for it.

    Tony watched from his place on the wall. Clocks were powerful objects similar to looking glasses, in the sense that they were portals to other worlds. However, unlike looking glasses, a person spent less time looking and more time being _looked_ at. Tony was always watching. From his spot on the wall, he tried to make sense of what the girl was doing.

    At first she seemed benign. Teaching a bunch of lazy ingrates how to work their brain muscles was never a bad thing, but he soon began to realize that her intentions weren’t innocent at all. She had this way of… pushing them, suggesting ideas rather than inspiring them to think for themselves. Whenever she raised that glass to her eye, it was like something clicked, and suddenly the three puppets could see whatever she wanted them to see.

    Hah. Creativity, his gong. She was playing the exact same game he was: pushing your influence to increase your power. What a complete amateur, he thought, no longer feeling threatened now that he knew what a weak goddess she was. His influence had existed since time -- and, subsequently, himself -- began. A little glitter and viscera wasn’t going to trump him any time soon.

    Tony retreated and let the notepad have her influence for now. He would show her who was in charge in time.

 

 

    Tony let things settle after the puppets’ punishment. Paige, as he discovered she was called, had made them suffer for their outstanding thoughts, all to make sure they never strayed from her point of view ever again. It had worked well enough; none of them had uttered the word ‘green’ for weeks, and every now and then they would all murmur in agreement that every cloud in the sky looked like a cat, dog, frog, etc. Alas, they still mucked around like a bunch of apes, and it was time to rectify that.

    He made sure Paige could see. Surely she’d returned to give them another lesson in creativity, but he was quick to shove her aside and pull his puppets into a jaunty tune about computers, smothering her in fish for good measure just to grind her gears.

            He relished in her screeches of rage as he popped his sunglasses on and led the boys on an adventure through chronological management. Always move forward, he always said! Move forward and forward, faster and faster, improving on all your mortal flaws with so much religious intensity that you forget to gain your own power from time and succumb to the decay of humanity. However, it wasn’t until bath time that he realized that he didn’t have as much control over the situation as he thought. Try as he might, even if it rhymed, he couldn’t utter the word ‘green’. Fish began to show up everywhere, even in places Tony knew he hadn’t put them, and often found themselves spewing blood and guts all over his clean uniform. He saw her glowering from the sidelines; she was angry, and she was powerful. More powerful than he’d estimated.

            But he wasn’t worried until he realized the puppets were beginning to think. While he’d tried to drown them in visions of technology and progress, they were suddenly analyzing his very being. His essence burned with each question on his existence and longevity – the AUDACITY. He lashed at them, screaming, punishing them for their impudence. “Time is important!” he screeched until they cowered in fear. “I am a clock!” He glared them down like an unforgiving god as he pushed all of time down onto them, his tiks drowning their thoughts and his tocs pulling the flesh from their bones. He made them suffer more than Paige could ever accomplish and made them beg for mercy, but he didn’t have any to give. He didn’t have time to deal with a bunch of lazy ideological conformists, and he didn’t have time for meddlesome girls in colorful white dresses. Quietly he slipped back into the inter-dimensional void, ready to confront Paige once and for all.

 

 

            Tony had expected a backlash, but he never anticipated the strength behind it. She smacked him so hard that it set his clock hands spinning like helicopters, then stabbed him in the lung with her pencil before he could even yell out in pain.

            She smiled as she pulled the blood-soaked pencil from his ribs.

            He gasped for air as his lung healed up, his clock hands ticking backwards to reverse the damage. “Hey now, what’s the big idea?” he gurgled. “When did civility become an arena?”

            “You should know, Mr. Clock, it’s rude to butt in!” she tutted, her razor-sharp pencil still at ready. She was smart, Tony determined, and she never assumed her victim was down for the count. “Why do you interfere all of a sudden?”

            “My name is Tony, and you should know; before you came in, this was MY show!”

            “Oh my, Mr. Tony, is that so?” The lilt in her voice was off-putting. As she fingered the end of her pencil, Tony took the opportunity to draw his clock-hand sword. The edge was razor sharp with a point so fine, it could pierce through the veil of space. Tony wouldn’t have settled for a weapon any less powerful. “I take it that you too want your influence to grow?”

            “I’ve been around since time began.”

            “You and I both hold the same hand.” The pencil flew at his face like a throwing dart; Tony was only barely able to block it, but no sooner had he raised his sword and left his body unprotected did one of Paige’s pointed boots kick him hard in the gut. He tumbled onto the ground with a groan of pain and gagged for air, rolling over before she could catch him off guard again. However, she only stood over him and grinned, continuing. “I’ve existed ever since Man could see; we’re not so different, you and me. Ever since the time of thugs and kings, Man has tried to control what others think.” Again she came at him with the pencil, but this time he was ready. He hooked the weapon in one of the curling designs of his sword and twisted it out of her hand. Then he brought the furnished blade over his head and down on the girl, who escaped decapitation by leaping to the side. However, Paige and her pencil were separated now; Tony had the advantage.

            “You say you’ve existed as long as I, but sight can never be stronger than time.” He strode forward and flicked his blade, swinging the tool back around him to try and finish her off. However, Paige had one more trick up her sleeve. Her hands dove into her petticoats and rose a shimmering glass to her eye; when the sword came down on her, it only found a puddle of black slime to cut into, the being of creativity nowhere to be found.

            Tony swung around with an angry hiss. “I don’t have time for games! There’s a time and a place for mucking around!”

            “Woah there, friend, you might need to slow down!” The voice, to his surprise, came from above. Paige’s smiling face stretched across the sky, felt storm clouds gathering under her eyes and raining acid on the chronological god. Dashing away, howling in pain, Tony drew his cloak over his head in an attempt to block out the sting. “What is this, how can this be?! I won’t let you get the best of me!”

            “Oh, come now, don’t be mad at me,” came the voice from above. “Just relax and enjoy the creativity!” As if on cue, the ground beneath Tony fell away and he plunged into… what appeared to be the puppets’ kitchen. The only difference now was that where a wall would be, a crew of anthromorphic filming equipment was standing and following his every move. Their glazed-over googly-eyes put Tony off even more than Paige’s voice, and he promptly decided not to pay them any mind… until they started chanting.

            “It’s time to get creative…”

            “What?” he said, clutching his sword and waiting for Paige’s attack.

            “It’s time to get creative…” came a voice from elsewhere.

            “It’s time to get creative…” said another. Soon the chanting was everywhere, coming from all directions and appearing to have no source until the furniture began to wobble. First it was the table and chairs, inching closer to Tony. Then the faucet wobbled, then the refrigerator. Inch by inch, the appliances edged toward him, chanting in childish voices over and over while driving him into the corner. Tony swung his blade at them in blind fear, but whenever he managed to hack a leg off a chair or split a cupboard in half, the parts only grew a voice of their own and crawled forward all the same. “No!” Tony cried. “Stop! Get away! I don’t have time for this today!” They fell upon him with crushing force; he dropped his sword and cowered, screaming for help and begging for mercy.

            It was a full minute of screaming before he realized there was nothing crushing him at all, that he instead was lying on the inter-realm floor with his arms over his head. He looked up to see Paige – in a humanoid form, no longer stretching over the sky – smiling down on him, the glass lifted from her eye. Tony didn’t need to be told that he’d just fallen for a stupid illusion.

            “Well, that’s just not fair!” he snapped. He was disheveled and didn’t look in any way orderly and proper.

            She herself didn’t even look phased. She only giggled and held a hand out to help him up. “Yes, perhaps it was a little unfair,” she cooed as the heat rose to Tony’s face. “But admit it: it was a delightful affair!”   

 


End file.
